


Snippet: Meeting a Monster

by gatekat



Series: Short Things [20]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Hunter!Prowl, M/M, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-11-24 09:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18163592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: In which Jazz's boss Sideslip takes him to meet a major asset.





	1. From the Wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114568/chapters/37679726

"Remember, don't meet his optics, don't turn your back, no sudden movements and don't let his vocabulary fool you. He's been out almost nine centuries and qualifies as feral at this point. He's running on base code that doesn't recognize mecha as anything more than a dangerous animal," the Lord of Praxian ISO reiterated to his SIC. He hated being saddled with this Stanizian from Iacon's division but he wasn't about to let the rising star be slaughtered by his prize hunter either.

"This isn't the first hunter I've met. I've run with one too," Jazz rolled his optics behind his visor as they transformed and stepped out into a dark yard outside city limits. A single lightpost shown a circle of light rather than a diffused glow. "I know how to handle myself around one."

"We'll see," Sideslip gave him a last look before stepping into the ring of light and motioned Jazz to follow him. 

After a klik Jazz picked up movement to the side and focused on it without turning his helm more than a fraction. He was still alert for other movement, other danger, while the movement turned into a mech, then a Praxian frame. Even with the stranger a fully visible shadow he barely registered on infra-red.

"He's alert." The voice was cultured, something Jazz expected from a lower noble not a feral hunter. It was not a voice he'd associate with physical danger.

"Yes he is, Prowl," Sideslip agreed. "Your comm indicated your mission was complete."

"Yes," the shadow of a Praxian shifted to pull something out of his subspace and stepped partway into the light to hand a box to Sideslip before retreating into the darkness again.

"Do you know how to check a spark chamber ID?" Sideslip half looked at Jazz.

"Yes," Jazz did not let that living shadow out of his sight as he took the box and showed that he knew where the ID number was and how to read it.

"Good," Sideslip took it back and gave a check himself before locking the box and returning it to the hunter. "Mission completion is accepted. Your quarters are ready for you Prowl."

The shadow mech flicked his doorwings in acceptance and melted away but not before his field brushed Jazz's with the fully predatory nature on display and some of what he'd been thinking about him.

Jazz held the shudder back until he was inside again and the hunter was definitely not going to see it.

"He must like you. He doesn't gave many that much warning of his nature," Sideslip hummed thoughtfully.


	2. The Common Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114568/chapters/37816661

It was a vorn and two metacycles before Jazz saw Prowl again. This time it was in the normal light of a rec room where Jazz was enjoying social time with whatever agents were around. The alertness level all around the room notched up the moment the walking shadow with deep red optics was spotted. Notable to Jazz was that it wasn't tension; these agents weren't afraid of the hunter. They just awarded him the respect due to a killer created and trained. Under that alertness was something else, a buzz of anticipation and desire as optics watched Prowl claim a ration cube of high grade.

"Bet you're the lucky one. He's always had a thing for outsider frames," the agent closest to Jazz whispered.

"Lucky?" Jazz glanced at the agent without letting his attention leave Prowl. As far as he was concerned the hunter was still a hunter and without direct orders to protect or tolerate someone they were too dangerous to be in general society.

"He's an incredible berthmate. Knows everything to make a frame sing and the endurance to put any of us to shame," the agent said without embarrassment. 

"Hello Jazz. It's good to see you are still here," Prowl's noble accent was even more pronounced now that he wasn't on a hunt.

"Where else would I be?" Jazz wasn't sure he wanted to hear it but he did want to know.

Prowl chuckled and slid into the chair at the end of the table. He was next to Jazz that way but not shoulder to shoulder.

"Gray, back in Iacon, onto more specialized training," Prowl counted off the top options in order and relaxed into something akin to the calculated sprawl Jazz did to appear less alert and dangerous than he was. Around here it fooled no one but it was a signal of not intending to act. "It seems Praxus is treating you well."

"I like it here," Jazz said honestly. Yes the city was unquestionably on the xenophobic side but it came across more as pious sympathetic pity than the loudly arrogant self-superiority of Vos and Helex.

"Then I'd like to show you another reason to stay," Prowl leaned forward with a purr and slid a finger along Jazz's jawline. He left his finger where it was when Jazz very purposefully moved his helm away.

"No." Jazz's response was firm enough there was no way to mistake it for being coy. He teeked the agent's surprise and Prowl's surprise-displeasure that carried all the way to his doorwings and drew the attention of the entire room.

"Why?" Prowl asked after a moment to collect himself.

Jazz gave him a look. "I teeked you last time we met, remember?"

"I'm in general population," Prowl scowled. "I'm past that."

"A hunter isn't let out until they're civilized again," the agent to Jazz's left added.

At Jazz's skeptical expression Prowl shook his helm slightly, an out-of-place movement that marked just how much time he spent outside Praxus. "Specifically that means I've pass the three tests. I accept that my mission is complete without proof. I can be insulted and not attack. I can accept being told no even in my berth," he laid it out. "What is Iacon's standard?"

"The only time I saw a hunter before you was when I was assigned to her hunt," Jazz admitted.

Prowl nodded his doorwings in understanding-acceptance, picked up his cube and moved to another table. He left less than five kliks later with a very eager mech.


End file.
